Date: Fri, 5 Jan 2007 21:27:49 -0800 (PST)
From: Scott M.
Subject: Centurion City, Part 1
Disclaimer: The following story contains explicit descriptions of sex
between adults. It is not intended for those under 18 years of age -- so if
you're under 18, don't read it! The author also prohibits the reading of
this work by closeted Republican members of Congress.
Centurion City
Intro
Scene:
The sun rises slowly over the bleak landscape, chasing down the
shadows that lurk in the dirty alleyways of a concrete dystopia. Low-rise
buildings with broken windows shadow the horizon, occasionally revealing a
bright splash of yellow or blue paint amidst a sea of gray. This is
Centurion City. Historically destitute and neglected by the rulers of its
world, it's now a city-state emerging as a continental power due to its new
Social Order.
Centurion City, you see, is a city of men, and men only. War after
war had scarred its streets, and one day the soldiers of two rival
regiments had joined together in unity, captured and fortified the city,
and brought in a new regime. No children are born here now -- population is
sustained solely by immigration -- voluntary of not. Men arrive here from
all over our world, but none leave. A resident of Centurion City is a
prisoner more than a citizen.
The Social Order, however, would not allow for such harsh
words. Political dissent is clamped down upon with an iron fist -- or cock,
more often than not -- even as rape and petty crime run rampant through the
streets. The soldiers, headed by Grand General Varori, are the only
authority figures, and look after themselves more than anyone else. And
they make sure that Receivers like me remain in our place.
Receiver. An innocent enough word, to be sure. But in Centurion
City, it means everything. You're a "Giver" or a "Receiver" -- you take it
up the ass, or you don't. You fuck, or you get fucked. Here, there are no
in-betweens. A person is assigned a role upon first entering the city;
voluntary entrants can state their preference, and those who choose to be a
"Receiver" are granted this status automatically. Those who choose to be
"Givers" must earn the status, usually by fucking a couple subordinate
receivers or by fighting off a couple soldiers. Those who come into the
city involuntary are almost always sex slaves captured from neighboring
kingdoms -- they, obviously, are subordinate "Receivers".
One problem keeps everything from being peachy-fucking-keen. A
ratio. 4-1 to be exact. Despite the best efforts of the soldiers to screen
potential givers, and the continued capture of human cargo, Givers still
outnumber Receivers overwhelmingly. I blame it on subconscious
heterosexuality -- a word despised by a regime that would prefer women were
mythological. But still, the fact remains -- for every hot hole waiting to
be plugged, there are four straining cocks bursting with cum. For receivers
like myself (or at least, those of us not "owned" by some rich master),
this means a hell of a lot of gangbangs. Often by soldiers. Gangbangs that
are usually non-consensual, often occurring in shadowy filth-ridden
alleyways in the dark of night. And that's why, on one hot and sweaty
August afternoon, I was pissed.
Chapter 1
"Fucking rapists!" I screamed at the group of Varorian loyalists
gathered in front of us. Givers, all of them, and minions for the
general. I was sitting on the baked asphalt of Valor Street, surrounded by
a bunch of my comrades in the Receiver Unity Front. We were blocking the
main thoroughfare, holding up commerce, and making a lot of people
angry. That was the point -- to make the tops that ran this city angry, and
to make them realize that we demanded equality.
Only it wasn't the most comfortable situation in the world. My
forehead was sweating and my head felt hot despite the close buzz-cut I had
just received, and my pale skin was starting to burn in the sunlight. My
cock and balls were hot and sweaty as well, but I wasn't too worried
because I knew the protest would be over soon. Up ahead, a group of three
Varorian soldiers were approaching, clad in uniform. They were tall,
mean-looking men, and I recognized one of them from a bar I frequented. He
approached me first -- I guess my position in the middle made me the
leader.
"Stirring up trouble again, aye boy?" he asked, glancing at me with
a look of arrogant amusement. He was hot though, I'd grant him that. Tall
gruff Italian guy with close-cropped black hair and a stubble-coated square
jaw. He was taller than me as well; I guess most people are since I'm only
5'5". But this guy was a good 6'2", and I'd bet he'd kicked some ass in his
lifetime. I wasn't scared, however.
"I hope so," I responded levelly, staring up at his frame. He had
his legs spread straight out and was looming just a couple of feet
away. "Trouble is what this city needs. And you're going to have a lot of
trouble, until..." I pointed to the massed group of Givers leering at the
sidelines, "Your people stop fucking with mine."
He kept on smirking, and then kneeled down in front of me so that
his face was level with mine, and I could feel his breath on my skin.
"Afraid we can't do that. See, your people," he pointed at the
other protesters massed around me, "are meant to get fucked. That's what
you're here for. And a boy like you, well, you're the fucking cutest of the
bunch, and maybe if you hate getting fucked so much we should work on
makin' your face a little less pretty." And with that he slowly pulled a
blade out of his pocket -- a good 8-inch long, steel combat knife. I
gulped, because I knew he could cut me, cut my face open, and the
authorities would do nothing.
"Leave him the fuck alone!" shouted the boy next to
me. Falcon. Another pissed-off bottom, one with a tough body and a sharp
Mohawk you could cut your hand on. He was stronger than me, if a little
less intelligent. I liked him a lot, and I knew that every time I took his
cock in my ass, we were giving the finger to the authorities. He liked to
top, and was a damn good one, but these Varorian assholes didn't like it
when guys defied their `"assigned roles".
"Hmmm...let me think about that," said the soldier, resting the
blade of the knife against my cheek. "I could leave him alone, but then
he'd just go out causing trouble again. And there's no reason I should let
that happen..." The bastard was still smirking.
Falcon glared at him, trying to stare him down. "Everyone in this
community loves Scotty, and if you hurt him you will have more trouble than
you can possibly imagine." Scotty's my name. I was rather impressed by the
show of bravado.
"Well," started the soldier, growing more thoughtful. "It would be
a damned shame to ruin a boy like this one. Most bottoms like you just need
some discipline." With that he stood up and motioned to the two other
soldiers flanking him. "I'm putting you into `protective custody' for three
days...or perhaps a bit longer. As for the rest of you, I'd suggest you
better disperse before the full regiment gets here."
The two other guys, nearly identical looking with their shaved
heads and built bods, grabbed me under the arms and lifted me up. I had
some handcuffs snapped on me, and was pushed/shoved away from the assembled
crowd, towards the direction of Base Camp 4 (the nearest military control
center). I glanced back at Falcon, and he gave me the Clenched Fist salute
with his left hand while he remained sitting on the concrete.
"Solidarity! Stay strong!" I shouted back at him as the distance
between us increased.
"Ah, fuck it," said the lead soldier from before. I later would
learn his name - Tony. "I'm doing you a favor, and you're going to be
shouting the whole way to the camp. I'm sorry, but I can let you do that,
you see." And with that, he had his soldiers stop and hold me in place as
he produced a white cloth soaked with chemicals from his breast
pocket. Rape rags, us Receivers called them. All the soldiers had them, and
they could turn any angry/resistant boy into a sleeping, relaxed boy within
seconds. Which I would soon find happening to me.
"Don't fight it; just breathe in," was the last thing I heard as
his hairy first shoved the cloth into my face and I collapsed into the arms
of the men holding me.
*********
I awoke sometime later to the feeling of a big, fat, uncut cock
slapping against my face. That was the first thing I noticed. After that,
slowly opening my eyes to harsh florescent lights, I noticed the grey
concrete ceiling and walls around me. I felt the threadbare mattress
underneath my skin, and realized my hands and arms were pulled upwards,
tied to metal posts. I knew exactly where this was.
`Aw, fuck,' was probably my first thought.
In front of me a soldier straddled either side of the narrow
mattress and held his cock in front of my face. He wasn't one of the ones
from earlier. This guy had darker skin, `olive skin', as some say, and
close-cropped black hair. His tightly muscled chest had hair as well, dark
patches of short fur that straddled his pecs and went down his past his
belly button to meet the pubes surrounding his cock. His cock -- well, I
gotta good look at it since it was right in front of my face -- was thick
and veiny, with a bulbous purple head that demanded attention.
"Open," was all he said.
I opened my mouth and let his cock thrust into me. Soldiers
face-fuck rough, but I thought maybe if I cooperated and looked up at him
with a pleading look, mouth stuffed full with his cock, he'd go easy. And
of course, I was wrong. Next thing I knew the entire 8-inch pole was
getting shoved down my throat, head hitting the back, until I almost wanted
to gag. And being yanked out again. I opened my mouth wide to accommodate
it though, savoring the sweaty soldier taste and letting my tongue brush up
against his dickhead with every thrust. Eventually, when I'm getting
face-fucked, a lot of saliva will build up in my mouth, and I'll end up
sitting there drooling around a guys cock. And that's what happened this
time. I just looked up at him submissively as he pounded his cock in and
out of my throat, thrusting his hips with military efficiency.
Next thing I know he pulls out, and I'm laying there like an idiot
with my mouth dripping because I can't wipe it up with my hands. He stood
there, stiff cock in hand, and just looked at me, smirking. It was a hot
smirk though, glittering white teeth against darker skin and a handsome
square jaw.
The soldier walked around to the side of the bed where my feet
where, and it's then that I realized my legs weren't tied down. He hopped
onto the bed, getting on his knees, and promptly straddled my legs on
either side of him. Next thing I knew, his hot body was pressing against
mine, and I could feel the head of his dark brown cock pressing up against
my tight pink hole, with only a thin coating of my saliva for lube. But
instead of pushing his dick in, he leaned his body forward so that my legs
were pinned and his face was right above mine.
"Hey, rebel boy...you got two options here. I can either give it to
you raw, which might be just a little uncomfortable for your tight ass, or
I can get down there and give your hole a nice tongue bath to loosen it up
a little," he said, so close I could feel his breath on my face. "But if
I'm gonna spend all that time licking your hole, I want something in
return. I've got to know you're worthy of being treated like a real
Receiver. So...boy...just acknowledge General Varori as your master. These
three days can turn out a lot better for a cute bottom boy like you."'
I knew I was in for some pain, but I wasn't about to give in and
look weak. I'd been through this routine before, and I could handle
it. Just had to grit my teeth a little...
"I pledge allegiance to no one. The General is not my master. You
can fuck me however you want to, but you're not going to get me to give
in," I said, as casually as I could.
"That's really too bad," he responded. "I'm gonna have to fucking
tear your ass apart. Really don't want to, `cause it's sweet and tight, but
you just don't give me much choice."
He gave me a look of mock sympathy as his cock began to push into
my ass. The spit from my earlier face-fucking gave him just enough lube to
push forward, but my hole was completely unprepared. Next thing I knew his
cock was ramming into me, and my ass burned and stung like it was on
fire. Normally, I'd be able to handle a large cock fine, but his felt like
a metal pipe jammed up inside of me.
The soldier grabbed my legs and started grinding his cock in and
out of me, and finally I let loose a loud grunt of pain, but that just made
him smile and go faster. I looked up at him, towering over me, sweat
dripping off his face, and understood that this was want it meant to be
completely dominated. To be made another guy's bitch against my will. I was
nothing to him -- just a tight hole he could slam his dick in and out of.
"You enjoying this, boy?" he said, over the sound of his
low-hanging balls slapping against my skin. "You know, they say that yes
means no with bottom cunts like you. Must be why you get arrested so often
- you like being our little cum dump, don't you, bitch?"
Ï could barely get any words out -- all I could concentrate on was
his fucktool pounding in and out of me. But the pain was lessening a
little, maybe my blood or his pre-cum was providing lube, and I managed to
get out a strained "Fuck you."
"No, I'm fucking you," he said, dryly with a smirk. "And a lot of
other men will be too before you get out of here."
With that he leaned forward, pushing my legs down and positioning
his body just over mine so that our chests almost touched. His thick rigid
cock slammed in even deeper, and I let out a restrained cry. That's when he
pressed his lips against mine. His tongue forced my mouth open, and he
kissed me aggressively. He tongue raped my mouth the same way his cock
raped my ass. Then, he pulled his lips off of mine and positioned his mouth
just a few inches from my lips, and said two words. "Open, now."
His tone dripped authority, so I obeyed, opening my mouth wide. His
eyes focused on mine intensely, and he pulled his head back and spit a huge
gob of thick saliva into my mouth. I felt it hit my tongue -- his fucking
disgusting soldier spit -- and didn't move. As he continued brutally
fucking my ass, he spit a few more wads into my open mouth, and then
clamped his big rough thumb and forefinger down on either side of my
mouth. "Swallow."
Again I obeyed, gulping down a mouthful of his spit and feeling it
cascade down my throat. Not because I wanted to, but because I figured it
useless to resist now that his 8-inch fuckstick was already ramming up my
hole.
Apparently that turned him on, because next thing I knew he started
grabbing my nipples, twisting them roughly, and grunting. The pace of his
fucking increased, his dick sliding easily in and out of my brutalized
ass. I felt his cock starting to swell inside of me, pushing back my
ass-walls even further.
"Yea...you like that, boy? If you like my spit you're really going
to like my cum. Your hole was fucking made to take my sperm -- that's all
pussyboys like you are good for. You like my soldier cock ramming up inside
of you, don't you? Yea...take it bitch. I'm fucking cumming!" he groaned.
And with that I felt his hot white cum slamming into the walls of
my ass, filling me up completely with his jizz. He kept slamming his cock
into me, making sure his sperm went into me deep; breeding me like a real
stud. Next thing I knew, his hand was roughly stroking my cock, and I was
helpless to resist as my own dick erupted loads of cum onto my chest. I'd
been trying to ignore it, but I'd been hard ever since he entered me.
The solider laughed when he saw me cum, and he scooped up some of
my cum with his fingers and shoved them into my mouth. Then he slowly
pulled his light brown cock out of my ass, leaving behind a trail of wet
semen. When his dickhead exited, I could feel my hole pulsing and
throbbing, empty. He started to stand and scoffed at me.
"You enjoyed that, didn't you, slut? We should make you pay for
this shit, since you're just getting a free service. I think all you
bottom-boy rebels would be happy if you just had someone to ram a cock up
you 24-hours a day. Yea, your holes all red and puffy now, boy. But don't
worry, there's a lot more cock coming."
I glared at him, again defiant, despite the fact that I still had
his spit glistening off my face. "Yea, well, if their dicks are as small as
yours, then I shouldn't have anything to worry about," I said.
His gaze hardened, then he rushed forward next to the bed, where I
was still tied up, and brought his fist forward. His fist slammed into me,
right on my jaw, and I felt a burst of white-hot pain and tasted
blood. Then he stood back and looked down on me calmly.
"That was just a warning shot. I could knock your fucking teeth
out. But I'm a nice guy. And I think you're fucking beautiful. But some of
these guys here -- you better show some respect," he cautioned.
And with that, he put on his military-issued green trousers and
left the room. I watched the sweat glisten off his bare olive-skinned back
as he exited. And then I was alone, naked and tied to a bed in a concrete
room, with my hole wide open and dripping with soldier cum. I took a deep
breath and waited. I had no idea what to expect next.
End of Chapter 1
About the Author:
Hey everyone. Just in case any of you are curious, I'm a 19-year-old
college student in Portland, Oregon. And yea, I'm a bottom boy with
tattoos. For commentary on my work or other inquiries, e-mail me at
dirtyboypdx@yahoo.com.